


i’m a spark and you’re a boom

by lovelypl4n3t



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Coming Out, Fluff, Internalized Acephobia, M/M, Supportive Kuroo Tetsurou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:22:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28581936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelypl4n3t/pseuds/lovelypl4n3t
Summary: It was testing out that new label, seeing if it fit for him. And, when he reread over the past experiences others had anonymously submitted, it just seemed to click. Was this what he’d been missing, for all those years? This single, seven letter word? Asexual?(or: kenma comes out to his boyfriend as asexual)
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma
Comments: 4
Kudos: 92





	i’m a spark and you’re a boom

Kozume Kenma, at the age of thirteen, knew he was different. 

He didn’t exactly enjoy looking at celebrities, and if he did, he definitely couldn’t see anything sexual happening. Even if he closed his eyes, the ‘fantasies’ his peers spoke of just wouldn’t come, and the whole idea of being that intimate with someone (even if it was Kuroo), freaked him out. It was exposing  _ all  _ of you, and there was nowhere to hide. 

Sure, he’d discovered masturbation at the age of twelve thanks to the internet, but he supposed it wasn’t the same as sex: the thing everyone was going on and on about. It had to be pretty similar, Kenma guessed, but that idea of going further just didn’t appeal and there were things he’d rather to instead of sex. 

At first, he just pegged it to puberty. Maybe, that awful hell of hormones and acne would sweep in like a steam-roller, relieving him of all this pain. It could all go away, and Kenma could relish the concept that he was just like everyone else. In fact, within the past two weeks, he had cried five separate times because he just  _ wasn’t normal.  _

His entire shtick, if you could call it that, was fitting in. Kenma tried as hard as he could to blend in, become one of the crowd. He didn’t want to be noticed, he didn’t want attention. However, this  _ thing _ , whatever it was, just formed an iron wall between him and all his peers. It was unbreakable in the fact that that attraction, he’d called it, just seemed invisible. Like a gene everyone seemed to have except him. 

They all bonded in how they found certain people attractive, and sometimes, Kenma could see it. Other times, it was like they were speaking a completely different language that he hadn’t learnt, nor even wished to learn. 

He wanted to be like Kuroo and say, “god, he could step on me and i’d say thank you.” Or, “isn’t he so hot?” Or even, “rail me!” But, unfortunately, he just felt the urge to steal back his game console from Kuroo whenever he was like that. 

Soon enough, Kuroo had been able to decipher that Kenma felt uncomfortable whenever he referenced sex. He always knew Kenma had his quirks, and that was totally okay. He was different to other people. They liked socializing, and Kenma would rather stay inside, hunched over a new game. They liked running for exercise, and Kenma would rather only run if he had to. They liked sports and music and academics, and Kenma would rather be glued to his screen like it was an extra limb. 

“Hey kitten, why do you get weird when I talk about sex?” 

And now, it was in the open.

Kenma’s grip on his gaming console loosened as the words spurted from Kuroo’s mouth, and he eventually let it go in favour of sitting next to Kuroo like a jigsaw piece. He was so small in comparison to his childhood friend, and his dark hair fell into his face as he sighed. 

“I-I don’t know. I just don’t get the hype, and I’d rather not have it.” Kenma paused to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Ever.” He exhaled heavily as Kuroo wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders. 

“That’s completely fine, kitten. Look up asexuality.” 

And Kenma did. He fished out his phone from his pocket, typing in his passcode and selecting the search engine: asexuality. His fingers shook as he read an article, his small frame going limp against Kuroo’s warmth. 

_ (ASEXUALITY: People who identify as asexual experience little to no sexual attraction, and sexual attraction can be defined as finding a specific person attractive and wanting to have sex with them. Asexual people can still enjoy sex, but they don’t feel sexual attraction.  _

_ This means asexuality is a spectrum, ranging from feeling sexual attraction and feeling none. There are many different identities that fit within this spectrum, including demisexual (a person feeling sexual attraction after a close bond is made), and graysexual (only sometimes feeling sexual attraction).  _

_ Asexual people can still feel romantic attraction, which is  _ _ is an emotional response, which most people experience at one point or another, that results in a desire for a romantic relationship with the recipient. This means that they’d still like to date and marry their partners, but don’t feel sexual attraction to them.) _

Kenma stopped reading to wipe away a puddle of water from his screen -- why were his cheeks wet? Oh. He was crying. He thumbed away a tear and only cuddled closer to Kuroo, who laid his head on Kenma’s. “I think I’m asexual.” Kenma whispered, and wiped his salty cheeks against Kuroo’s sweater. 

It was testing out that new label, seeing if it fit for him. And, when he reread over the past experiences others had anonymously submitted, it just seemed to  _ click.  _ Was this what he’d been missing, for all those years? This single, seven letter word? Asexual?

The only reply he got was a tight hug from Kuroo, who only murmured, “that’s wonderful, kitten. I love you.” 

This resulted in a new wave of tears from Kenma. He struggled to swipe them away as he turned off his phone, leaning into Kuroo’s touch. “I love you too.” 

From then on, Kenma hadn’t exactly been open in regards to his newfound orientation. He discovered he liked boys a year later, when a cute transfer in his maths class arrived with his fluffy black hair, freckles that looked like confetti on his cheeks, and a million-watt smile that seemed to brighten up a room. He’d fallen hard and fast, even though you wouldn’t know it. 

Kuroo could, if that could be classified as a surprise, and it probably couldn’t. Kuroo seemed to be able to interpret him like a goddamn book, memorising lines in the Book of Kenma to know for later.

It didn’t help him with that sinking feeling in his stomach that emerged each time his classmates discussed celebrities or even students in their class, but it was enough. Whenever his brain urged that he was  _ broken broken broken,  _ he sneered back with the same sort of strength:  _ i’m asexual i’m asexual i’m asexual.  _ It seemed to dull that ache, and that year for Kuroo’s birthday, (November seventeenth), he pieced together enough money to buy a dog-themed video game. 

Kuroo only laughed, saying he didn’t need to thank him -- that’s what childhood friends did. 

He looked up from his gaming console to laugh with him.

  
  


⊶⊶⊶

  
  


At the age of twenty two, it had been eight years since he’d first come out to Kuroo on that fateful night, sobbing into his jersey and using him like a personal tissue. Kenma had grown up well, in his opinion, and Hinata only made it better. 

Speaking of Hinata, Kenma and Hinata had been in a relationship for just under two months and Kenma had reluctantly figured it was about time to come out. He was incredibly anxious, pulling on his hair and biting at his fingernails. Kuroo had always hated those habits of his, but he’d never cared enough to kick them. 

With trembling hands, the setter opened his phone and began to compose a new message to Shouyou.  _ i think we need to talk.  _

Those words had always had bad connotations, he’d discovered, after reading up online. Partners were scared their loved ones either were dying, or were planning to break up with them. Why they seemed to be grouped as one, Kenma didn’t know, because dying was on a whole other level in comparison to being broken up with.

Maybe he wasn’t too good at the whole relationship, thing? 

No, that couldn’t be it. His heart swelled when Shouyou came over, sometimes dressed in his Jackals uniform. His orange hair would be wet with gleaming sweat, and Kenma would point him to the bathroom like clockwork, before reluctantly giving in and greeting his boyfriend with a chaste kiss. That had to mean something, he reasoned. 

Oh well. 

Kenma liked to think that Shouyou would still want to be with him, sleep next to him, kiss him after he heard what Kenma had to say. Perhaps, he would. But, there was a small -- and slowly getting larger -- part of his brain that only had one thing to say: that Kenma was broken and Shouyou wouldn’t be able to fix him.

That was just the internalised acephobia, and Kenma swatted it away. Still, that awful feeling lingered in his stomach as he heard their apartment door open, and presumably Shouyou walking in. It was just like normal, with the air becoming slightly muskier as the sweat pooled on his boyfriend’s skin seeped into the air, and that oh-so familiar face came along with it.

Except this time, his face was worried. He didn’t need to be directed to the shower like usual, and Kenma didn’t give him his kiss. That same feeling stewed in his throat, and Kenma almost thought he could feel it, rising in fumes as he sat neatly on their shared bed.

His gaming console sat discarded next to him as Shouyou plopped down, roughly ten minutes later. Kenma’s legs were crossed beneath him, hands knotted in his hair. The brown had come through from his roots, and now the only bleached part were the ends, split from abuse, probably. It was time to get them cut, probably. 

“What’s going on, Kenma?” Shouyou’s voice filtered into his foggy brain, enticing him to lock eyes -- hazel met gold. The calloused hands of his boyfriend gently guided his fingers away from his scalp, muttering how it wasn’t good for him. 

Kenma wanted to run away, hide, curl up in a ball so he wouldn’t have to face the innocence in Shouyou’s eyes. It had been years since they’d met, when Kenma and Hinata were both lost, but that childlike splash had not vanished. “I-I have something to tell you. I figured I should tell you… But I don’t want you to leave.” 

An arm snaked around his shoulders, and a warmth came along with it. For the first time in a long time, Shouyou looked serious. His mouth pursed into a thin line, and his eyes had lost that pureness they held a minute ago. “I won’t leave, Kenma. Pinky promise.” He held out a pinky, watching as Kenma followed suit. He disregarded how his boyfriend’s hands shook and trembled slightly, brushing a strand of raven hair behind his ear.

“Shouyou… I’m asexual. I-It means I don’t want to have sex, ever. I just don’t see you in that way, but I-I,” his voice cracked. “I still want a relationship with you. I love you.” 

There were two things that Kenma expected to happen. The first, was that Shouyou would think that he was stupid and  _ worthless,  _ and that a person spewing such lies didn’t deserve to be his boyfriend. It would render Kenma into a weeping mess, tears leaking down his cheeks and soaking into his pillow case. 

The second, was that Shouyou wouldn’t care. He’d wrap Kenma up in his arms, muscles rippling along his pecs from all the hours of volleyball training he’d done since high school. He’d press their bodies closer together, whispering sweet nothings into his hair. That option was the one Kenma preferred, because he didn’t want to lose Shouyou: the guy that he could tolerate for the longest, and actually enjoy listening to. 

However, what actually happened was enough to still the tears that threatened to pool in Kenma’s eyes. 

Shouyou just stopped. It was like Kenma was in a game, and he’d accidentally pressed ‘pause!’ on the main character while he left to eat, drink, or play volleyball. His eyes blinked, seeming to not comprehend something like that. “That-That’s a  _ thing?”  _

His boyfriend was ruined -- what had he done? 

“Like…” Shouyou paused momentarily to find suitable words. “That’s… A thing? You’re allowed to n-not feel… like that?” His voice was disjointed as a tear rolled down his cheeks. Kenma swiped it away with his thumb, pulling his boyfriend towards him. 

“Of course, Shouyou. I was scared that you’d… Leave me.” 

They were both so vulnerable, huddled into each other’s comforting embrace.

“I was scared you’d break up with me when you heard that… I don’t really.. like sex.” 

Kenma glanced up at him, face curved into a small smile that made Shouyou want to burrow his head into the crook of his boyfriend’s neck, just to escape all the feelings. Kenma was his escape, his safe haven from the high expectations of his team and especially his setter. Kenma was the light at the end of the tunnel that greeted him at the beginning and end of each day, ensuring he’d be okay. 

“Of course not, silly.” 

“Kenma? I really love you. You make my heart go like… bwah! And boom! And… I feel really safe with you. Can-Can you help me research… this?” Shouyou’s face was tucked into his collarbone, preventing any words from being completely clear, but Kenma could decipher it with ease. After five years of knowing someone, it’s like you’re fluent in the language of  _ them.  _

Their habits, you pick up on. Their little ways of speaking, ways of doing things, ways of existing, become your own. Their smile becomes the source of your own, and it’s beautiful in every way possible. Screw love languages -- Kenma only needed his Shouyou. His sun. 

That was how they spent the rest of the night, huddled in each other’s arms as Shouyou scanned through an article Kenma recommended: asexuality for dummies. He wasn’t calling his boyfriend a dummy, oh no. He was just merely helping that understanding process go along, making sure that Shouyou had everything for his foundations, so he wouldn’t slip and regret it later.

“Kenma?”

“Yeah, Shouyou?”

“I love you. So,” he emphasised the word with a peck to Kenma’s left cheek. “So.” Another kiss was placed on his right cheek. “Much.” Shouyou melted on his lips, and Kenma could feel his boyfriend’s tears run down his face. They hit his skin, and as they pulled away, Kenma dried them away.

“I love you too, Shouyou.”

They were imperfect, that was for sure. Shouyou had his moments where he forgot things, like going to the shop after his practise, or accidentally forgetting to tell Kenma that his team-mates were coming around to their apartment; it had been anarchy, seeing Shouyou and Bokuto and Atsumu all laughing and shouting, whilst Kenma just wanted to curl up beneath a mound of blankets and exist. 

Kenma had his, where he occasionally shut Shouyou out in favour of his games. He’d play his Animal Crossing or fighting games for  _ hours on end,  _ misplacing the idea of food or water or affection. Shouyou had been especially pouty after a specifically bad practise, coming home with the intention of cuddles on his mind, only to find that his boyfriend hadn’t moved since he’d left, over five hours ago. 

They were blemished and flawed, but it was theirs. No one could take that away from them. 


End file.
